


Prompt# 83: "Stay there. I'm coming to get you."

by Xylianna



Series: Xy's 100 Ways Challenge [8]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, F/M, canon compliant death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 18:27:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15418962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xylianna/pseuds/Xylianna
Summary: Crowe, recovering from the failed attempt on her life, is awoken by an urgent call from Nyx.





	Prompt# 83: "Stay there. I'm coming to get you."

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kinglyace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinglyace/gifts).



> Originally posted on [Tumblr](https://xylianna.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Note: Not a sexy fic, but I bumped the rating for the depiction of death.

The shrill ring of her phone woke Crowe from a deep sleep. With a muttered oath, she sat up and fumbled on her night stand until she found it, swiping to answer the call without checking the ID.

“This better be good,” she growled irritably. Crowe was not a morning person.

“Hey, beautiful,” Nyx’s voice came over the speaker. Well, if someone had to rouse her with the dawn, at least it was the man she loved.

“Hey, yourself,” she purred, settling back against her pillows and cradling the phone between her cheek and shoulder. “You just get off? On your way over?”

“So, about that…” Nyx’s words trailed off into a coughing fit that ensued long enough it had Crowe worried.

“You okay, hero?”

“I did something stupid, Crowe.”

She sat up again with a long-suffering sigh. “Nyx, that’s hardly unusual, and could mean any number of things.” Pushing her sleep-snarled hair back from her face, Crowe tried to be patient. It was hard before coffee. “Explain?”

“Crowe, I…” More coughing.

She felt ill at ease; this didn’t sound like the coughing that could follow irresponsible overuse of warp-striking, or that could indicate a rough throat from a karaoke night, or even, hell, soreness from being around smokers or a bonfire. She was running out of logical, benign options.

“Nyx, you’re scaring me,” she said in a small voice.

“I’m scared, too.”

That got her out of bed. She began pulling on her uniform, checking to make sure she had a few ethers stowed away in her carry-all. “Dammit, Nyx! What’s going on?”

“The sun’s so warm,” he whispered. “I’m glad I get to see it one last time. Glad I get to hear your voice.”

“The fuck are you talking about?” she shouted into the phone.

“Drautos is dead. I killed him. He was with the Empire. Had to keep Lunafreya safe,” Nyx babbled, the words pouring from the phone speaker like a summer squall - intense and startling.

“What?” Crowe shook her head, pacing across her small apartment, collecting her gear. None of this made sense; what was he going on about? He’d been assigned to guard the Oracle, yes, but the rest? Captain Drautos, with the Empire? That didn’t make sense.

“I’m glad you were on leave,” Nyx said tenderly. “So many of the others have fallen. I think Lib made it, but…”

“Nyx. Where are you? Are you hurt?” Crowe demanded, already heading out the door. She chose a road that would lead to the Citadel, not having much of anything to go off of. It didn’t take her long before she saw the destruction that had decimated the city. How had she slept through that? It must have been the healing draught she’d been given to recuperate from her injuries on that ill-advised away mission. The medic had warned her she’d sleep like the dead. Shit, how long had she been out?

“It’s burning me from the inside out,” Nyx said in a rough voice. “It _hurts_ , Crowe. But it was worth it. She’s safe. Ring’s safe.”

She started to run. “ _Where are you_?”

“Citadel. Courtyard.”

“Stay there. I’m coming to get you.” 

There weren’t many people out on the streets, and those few who braved the morning had wide, terrified eyes. Crowe had no time for them. If she got to Nyx quickly enough, maybe with her magic she could…

“Crowe?” His voice sounded weak, a pale echo of his typical exuberance. “Keep talking, gorgeous. I love the sound of your voice.”

“Uh, sure,” she ground out between labored breaths. Crowe realized she’d been neglecting her cardio; what a fucking time to have her legs burning and lungs straining. She pushed through. “It’s a beautiful morning. Lots of sunshine to show off the fucking holes in the city. Six, what the hell happened last night?”

“Empire… the signing was a ruse,” Nyx whispered. “Killed King Regis. Good thing he sent the Prince out of the city. Luna’ll find him, and then they’ll stop…”

“What’ll they stop, Nyx?” Crowe asked desperately. She needed him to hold on, needed him to keep talking, stay conscious, stay coherent until she could get to his side.

Another of those gods-forsaken coughing fits was his only answer.

“Nyx? Nyx! Stay with me, hero,” she implored him, pushing herself to run even faster. She could see the smoking top of the Citadel complex looming high in the distance; why was the Galahdian sector so far away from the seat of their government, from the very people they were sworn to protect?

“Empire… Magitek… Scourge… Luna can… Prince needs the ring… weapons.” 

She heard him retch, and her heart ached. 

“I’m coming apart, Crowe,” Nyx muttered. “Rather come apart with you, in bed. That doesn’t hurt nearly as much, even when you get rough.”

“Once I heal you up, we’ll go to bed and stay there a week. A month,” Crowe promised. Finally, the fucking gates. They were locked, so she looked for another way in, suspecting her keycard wouldn’t work. A brief search and she found a section of fencing had been blown clear away. Crowe pushed through the debris, swearing when her arm scraped against a jagged edge.

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing. Flesh wound. I’m almost there, baby. Hold on for me.”

“Trying…” Nyx’s word sounded more like an exhalation than intentional speech. “Fuck. So hot. I knew there’d be a price to pay, but do they have to make it so damn painful?”

“They?” Crowe asked, grasping at the word. Keep him talking, keep him alert.

“Ancient Kings of Lucis. Lent me their power. Helped me awaken the city itself to fight the Empire. Protect the people,” Nyx’s throat closed on the last syllable, and he gave a strangled cry that had Crowe clamoring to get over the rubble in the courtyard. She’d heard that shout without need for the phone, though she didn’t disconnect the call just in case.

“Where are you, Nyx? Keep talking. Help me find you.”

“Protect the people,” he repeated. “Crowe, they’ll need you. They’ll need the Glaive and Guard to—”

_There!_ She frowned at the vision before her. Crowe had found Nyx, but he was surrounded by a shimmering haze. As she watched, bits of him seemed to blacken and fall away, floating adrift on an unnatural wind and scattering on the breeze.

She dropped her phone and darted forward, reaching into her satchel for an elixir. Crowe cracked it over him and waited. Nothing.

“No. Not like this,” she begged any Astral that was listening. Finding her center, Crowe channeled her strongest healing spell, laying her hands on Nyx’s chest and pouring the mystical energies into his body. She had to stop when her hands caught on fire from the contact, jerking them back and putting the flames out in the dirt next to her knees.

Nyx’s head slowly turned towards her, and she wept to see the charred ruin of his handsome face. Virulent red and violet lines ran in jagged streaks down what bits of his skin still looked like skin. She couldn’t tell if his eyes were closed or destroyed until he opened them. Those eyes, those luminous, beautiful eyes, eyes she’d stared into from Galahd all the way to Insomnia, in good times and bad, in spars and in love-making. Those eyes were locked to hers now, and Crowe struggled to bring a shaky smile to her lips.

“Hi, hero,” she said softly, reaching out to hold what was left of his hands.

“Gorgeous,” he breathed. “Love you.”

“I love you, Nyx Ulric.” She brushed irritably at the tears coursing down her cheeks, wanting his last sight of her to be tear free and brave.

In that scant amount of time, though… he was gone.

Crowe sat there until the last of his body had crumbled to ash, dancing away on the wind and out of her reach forever.

She stood and brushed the dirt off her knees. Head held high, a river of tears still sliding down her determined face, she began to walk.

Crowe had a mission: find the Prince. Protect the people. Save the world.

She’d do it… for _him_.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. <3


End file.
